#so if this doesn't sound like etoiles well. pues f no? guess i'll cry

[qroier]

always on that stupid boat eternally on that stupid boat. aka what i imagine was roier cubito's reaction on that boat as it sped away from egg island, with some bloodhounds included for fun. full thing under read more and link to this on ao3:

Roier was still standing near the stern. He'd been there for hours. It was the same place he’d been standing at when the bomb had dropped, and he hadn't moved since. Not since the boat had started speeding away after Tubbo finally figured out how to lift the anchor, and not even since the rocky aftershocks had finally stopped churning the waves. The rest of them, the rest of them that had made it onboard, kept checking in on him, occasionally, when they could. Walking back to stand next to him as he faced the ocean and an island that could no longer be seen. Motionless. Soundless.

Bagi had tried, initially, to guide him to a seat, back when everyone else’s shock had started to set in. He had shrugged her off without a word. He’d done the same thing to anyone else’s attempts since. Etoiles softly calling out his name, saying, “Roier, bro? My friend?” had had similar results. So they left him alone, and hoped he’d resurface. A blanket that Phil had found somewhere deep in storage while trying to scrounge for supplies was draped over his shoulders like a cape and like the comfort he was refusing. 

Hours more pass like that by the time a rustling arises from Roier’s corner. Most of them are asleep or at least trying to be, and the loudest sound apart from the ocean’s lapping waves hitting against the boat’s hull is the twinkling of stars overhead and occasional snores from the cabin below. The rustling jolts Etoiles from the half-doze he’d fallen under while standing guard to Roier’s left. He reaches instinctively for a sword that’s not there. Right. It’s turning to dust somewhere, back on that island, after being dropped by Phil and lost mid-flight to the boat. 

There's movement. That's new. It catches Etoiles’ attention from where he notices it out of the corner of his eye, and he only barely manages to scramble fast enough to catch Roier as he crumbles. 

They both hit the floor. In Etoiles’ arms, Roier shakes as his murmurs whisper “Pendejo no duro nada, nada.” 

They both know the tremors are tinged with something more than heartbreak.

“Nada,” Roier repeats, picking himself up and away from Etoiles while glaring back toward the same spot of ocean he'd been looking at before. Ese culero, his eyes try to say.

He looks back down at Etoiles, still on the floor and staring up at him. A- something, drags its way across his face as he scoffs. It might be a smirk. “Man,” he calls down, “No mames. Why are you on the floor, pendejo? Are the- are the fancy boat beds not toxic enough for you? You miss the ground?”

Etoiles just looks back up at him. Okay. “Are you stupid, bro? Don't be stupid, man. I was waiting for you, pendejo,” he tells Roier, putting on a similar grin as he stands up and dusts himself off. 

He shoves at Roier’s shoulders, gently, playfully, when Roier says, “Hm, no, I don't think so.”

“You don't think so? Oh, well, if you don't think so! I guess I must be a liar, then!”

Roier starts to direct them forward, as if he's the one that explored the boat instead of the one that stood at the stern, motionless, for hours. There's not a single glance back to that invisible island.

“You just don't think the beds are toxic enough. You need it more toxic? Don't be so mean or I'll cry for the beds, I swear man, I'll cry for the beds.” Neither of them comment on Roier’s desert dry eyes. How they're tinted red not with tears but from being open for so long.

The lack of direction seems to catch up to Roier, suddenly, as he stumbles while turning about to look for the cabin door. Etoiles reaches out, hand to his shoulder to steady him.

“Roier, man. You uh, you good, bro?” He asks, not removing his hand even after Roier stabilizes.

“Fuckin boats, man.” A chuckle. “I'm not a mermaid. Is Cucurucho too poor for a plane? We're so poor, man. Quesadilla Island is so poor, what the fuck.”

“Now you are the one being toxic, bro.” Etoiles says, turning them, pointing them in the direction of the cabin door and the beds underneath. He looks at Roier again. At the tightness in his shoulders. At how he's refusing to turn back toward the island. “Roier, my bro, do you want-”

“Sleep!” Roier shouts, nodding like the idea will save him. “Yes. On a not toxic bed, because man, I'm not like you. I'm not mean to the beds like you.”

They reach the cabin door a half second later and Roier pauses, hand on the door knob. The humor slides off his shoulders, and the grin drops from his face. 

“Did.” The tremors are still there, hiding under his hoodie. His hand had shaken when he reached for the door. Etoiles hadn't mentioned it. “Did anyone else make it on, after?”

Etoiles looks at Roier, at the way his gaze is glued to the door knob.

“No, my friend. I was the last one on.”

“Oh. Okay. Bueno,” he says, hand and gaze still on the door. “Bueno. Pues F, no?” He chuckles again, finally dragging his attention back to Etoiles as he opens the door. The humor slinks back. “Are you gonna tryhard sleep now? Is that what you'll do, man?”

“Bro, if anyone is going to tryhard sleep, it's the Mexican beast!”

“Ah, facts, factoids. Pure fuckin facts, bro.”

Although there are enough rooms to not, they'll share a room when they make it downstairs and to the sleeping quarters. They're used to it, by now.

And they'll never talk about it. At least, they'll never talk about it for however long they're on that stupid boat.

#tried really hard to make sure it sounded like them to the point i might have overcompensated and this is approaching parody territory #so if this doesn't sound like etoiles well. pues f no? guess i'll cry #sdlfkjkd #i hope you guys like this <3 #qbloodhounds #qsmp #my writing #? i guess tag debut #speaking #roier #etoiles #posting this at 11 am was not the smartest idea on my part i will admit but i had to put it out there #posts from me for me #y yo que anon i hope you see this one day #on that stupid boat